


Waste Away With Me

by t0bemadeofglass



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Blood and Violence, Collars, Complete, Dirty Talk, Dubious Morality, Empress Rey, F/M, Knotting, Mating Bond, Mating Rituals, Multiple Orgasms, Older Man/Younger Woman, Oral Sex, Power Imbalance, Sexual Tension, Size Difference, Size Kink, Unwilling Bodyguard Ben, Woman on Top, Women In Power
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-21 19:04:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11363691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0bemadeofglass/pseuds/t0bemadeofglass
Summary: "When she’d taken Ben Solo’s kingdom with 2,000 of her best men at her beck and call, she’d been sure to take her late father’s advice to heart and return with the prince himself in tow, chained and trussed up like a holiday bird. "An Empress!Rey AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! So, this plot would not leave me alone and I knew I had to write it. Here's the first part to the empress!Rey fic that I teased on my Tumblr earlier this week. I really hope you enjoy it--I've loved writing it so far, and I'd love to hear what you have to say and what you think about it!   
> Thank you so much for reading!

When she’d taken Ben Solo’s kingdom with 2,000 of her best men at her beck and call, she’d been sure to take her late father’s advice to heart and return with the prince himself in tow, chained and trussed up like a holiday bird. She’d stripped him to the basics, giving him the benefit of a worn pair of trousers alone. Still, the way he looked at her, the way he  _ breathed, _ proved he was still a proud man, unwilling to bend or break for her. She may have taken his throne, forced his people into an alliance with her own under the guise of “protection,” but taking his pride would be the feat she was looking forward to most. She would have him bow before her and call her his Empress, or she’d never be satisfied. 

The first evening, against the judgement of her advisors and closest companions, she had her mages fit him with a collar and offered him the post of her body guard. Well, perhaps “offer” wasn’t the proper word for it. He’d fill that position until death parted them, or she grew bored. The latter she thought was the most unlikely. After it’d been seated around his throat, and all others had retreated for the evening (much to Finn’s displeasure), she’d sipped her wine and watched his face grow red with frustration when he couldn’t strangle the life from her as he wanted. His fingers dug into the armrests of his chair, and he stared down at them, as though willing them to move. His broad shoulders trembled with rage and the sight alone made Rey wet, having to press her legs together to relieve some of the tension. 

“What magic is this, witch?” he’d demanded, voice like a cornered tiger, eyes glowing near gold in the fire light. He looked wild, like some beast she’d managed to catch and caged up for her own, and really wasn’t that the truth of it? Her body hummed with pleasure at her success as exhaustion caught up with her. 

“Insurance.” She’d smiled blithely, sucking the last drop of red wine from her bottom lip. His eyes had drank in the motion wordlessly, and she fell asleep with his heated, hateful gaze still on her. 

 

“Are you incapable of finding an actual bodyguard? Someone who values your life enough to want to save it?” 

Rey chewed on the inside of her cheek, debating between ignoring Solo’s comment and kicking the smirk off of his face. He was close enough that she could, his form sprawled out lazily in the grass not a few feet off, enjoying the sun as much as she did in the privacy of her gardens. It wasn’t any way for a bodyguard to behave, her advisors had told her. She was too lenient on him. With a snap, she shut the book and looked at him. Nearly a month and a half had gone by and the collar still gleamed around his throat, heavy with the promise of safety from his end. She hadn’t thought it would last so long, that some of the enchantment might wear off and she’d wake up to Solo’s enormous hands wrapped around her throat, squeezing the life from her, but for all she could discern there was no such flaw in her mage’s creation. She’d have him knighted for that alone if he would let her. 

“Perhaps I just enjoy seeing you tormented, and if I had you locked up in my dungeon to rot I wouldn’t get to witness it. I do love the way your pretty face scrunches up when you want to throttle me.” 

His easy expression turned to a scowl, dark eyes darting to her face as he gripped great handfuls of grass and ripped them up. Better the grass than hair on her head, she mused. 

“I think I might die of happiness if I was to be rid of yours,” he muttered, words dark as he turned his head away so he wouldn’t have to meet her gaze. She wanted to snort, but instead rolled her eyes. Was he so dramatic before all of this? Before she’d taken his kingdom from him and forced him to serve her? Before she’d given him a new purpose in life and stripped him of all he’d known? Somehow this didn’t feel like just a defense mechanism, but a facet of a life she’d never know about, and that set something aching deep inside her gut. 

She closed it off and instead shrugged, opening her book. “A pity. I much prefer you alive to pester, myself, and as I’m the Empress that means I get to decide.” 

It was a low blow, one she ought to have been above dishing out, but his irritation was starting to wear on her. Certainly, she knew it would never be an easy road, and had openly lorded her successes over him for so long that she wouldn’t have been surprised at all to think that he might never grow comfortable or acclimated to his position. Part of her didn’t want him to; he was far too much fun to rile up, to trade barbed words with, and if he ever stopped doing so she thought she might die of sheer boredom. 

“What happy power you wield,” Ben said, and his voice was so full of scorn that Rey had to hide her shiver, fingers clasping her book tightly. Yes. It was a happy thing that she had that power, as she didn’t dare offer the same choices to him. God only knew what he’d decide to do with her if he was in her same position. Something hot flared within her gut as she looked over to where he’d sprawled out. He’d stripped his shirt to feel the sun on his skin and her eyes roved every dip of muscle and curve of his body. 

Might not be too bad. 

She had to hide the flush that burned her cheeks by opening her book again, determinedly trying to lose herself in the prose, and finding herself rereading the same passages in between sneaked peeks at her bodyguard. Gods above and below, she was going to get herself into all sorts of trouble. 

 

As Empress, it was Rey’s duty to attend a plethora of meetings, needing to know that her people were being well taken care of, that food would be arriving from their other sister-countries, and that they were in no imminent threat from any other surrounding kingdom. Certainly these were all valid and important meetings . . . and dull. Dreadfully so. She envied Ben in his silence, though she knew her advisors were uncomfortable with his presence. It might have been more prudent to keep him out of state affairs for fear of him learning too much and then spilling their secrets--. 

But she needed at least something interesting to look at, other than the balding heads of the men who held her hand and helped her rule successfully. 

And Ben? Ben was very interesting to look at. She’d taken to keeping him well dressed, liking the cut of black cloth as he wore it, wanting to keep it tailored to his body so that the world could see her impressive new acquisition. The color made him look otherworldly, the sharp cuts of his cheekbones more severe, his dark hair shiny in comparison to the cloth that covered him. His eyes had glazed over with disinterest, and she doubted she had anything to fear as far as him learning trade secrets. Biting her bottom lip, she cleared her throat, cutting off the old man speaking currently. All eyes moved to her as she rose, and the others swiftly moved to follow, not wishing to be caught seated while their Empress was standing. 

“Ben, come here.” 

That snapped him out of his trance. The other men grew silent but she didn’t bother with looking at them instead, her gaze too focused on her bodyguard as he came back to himself. His eyes searched the other men, and she watched the collar bob as he swallowed thickly before stepping closer. His boots were heavy on the stone floor, his pace matching the heavy hammering of her heart as she waited for him to get close enough, before gesturing to her seat at the head of the table. There was a soft hum of disapproval from the men behind her, and Ben’s eyes narrowed as he stared from the seat to Rey. 

“No.” 

“Sit. I command it.” 

There was no fighting with her tone. She watched his hands become fists and his body begin to shake with the effort to not throttle her right there and then, in front of this grand crew of learned men, but when his minor tantrum was over he turned and sat down at the very head of the table. She smirked, turned, and promptly sat herself on his lap, shifting around ever -so slightly to get comfortable. 

“If we’re going to be here much longer,” she said as way of explanation. “I’m going to need a far more comfortable seat.” Beneath her, Ben stiffened, his hands reaching out to cover the front of the arm rests, knuckles white with the effort to keep himself under control. He knew expectation as well as she did, she surmised, but hadn’t prepared himself for the fact that in some ways? She could give a  _ damn _ about what was expected of her as Empress. A nervous laugh went up around the room at her explanation, and she gestured back to General Janus to pick up where he’d stopped.

She certainly wasn’t tired or bored now, and judging by the press of something long and thick beneath her ass, neither was Ben. 

 

She’d come to enjoy that he slept in her room, knowing that his heated gaze was on her, that his fingers fisted in his bedsheets as he desired to throttle her after something cheeky that she’d said yet he could do nothing. Honestly, she enjoyed waking up and seeing his bare chest first thing in the morning, too. It definitely had a habit of putting her in a far better mood. And when he had particularly  _ interesting  _ dreams, she might’ve looked just a moment too long at the tented sheet between his legs and pressed her own together as she imagined him inside of her. 

The idea was preposterous. Certainly she could order it, and he might obey, or else might fight her as he would every step of the way, but that wasn’t what she wanted. No. She wanted him to feel the longing as acutely as she did, as painful as it was within her to stare at him and feel her mouth salivate and know that there was nothing that she could do. 

But she didn’t order him from her rooms, either, wouldn’t dare take that risk. 

Two months into his service with her and she’d woken to the sound of breaking glass. She sat up quickly in bed, staring through the near complete dark, at Ben’s enormous frame locked around that of a smaller man. The assailant’s left hand reached backwards even as his face grew a deep purple in color, and Rey shouted for Ben to look out just as the man reached for the hidden blade in his shirt. He managed to pull it out, the blade catching the silver light from the moon as it swung upwards and made to connect with Ben’s head, had he not managed to duck out of the way. He gripped the man’s hand instead and squeezed so hard that Rey swore she heard the bones break over the man’s scream of agony. The knife fell, and quick as a whip Ben snatched it and stabbed it into the man’s gut, hand covered in blood as it poured from the wound in great rivers. Rey couldn’t pull her gaze away, her mouth falling open as she watched Ben shove her would-be assailant to the ground, throwing the blade down with him. For a great long minute they just stood there in silence, the two of them working to understand just what it was that happened. He’d saved her, without her having to say anything. He could’ve claimed to be in a deep sleep when the man had come in with very clear murderous intentions. Hell, he could’ve helped by letting the man sneak back out afterwards. 

All his troubles would be gone if he’d just let the assassin do what he was ought to do instead of kill him. But he hadn’t. 

“Are you alright?” she couldn’t help but ask, standing quickly to draw her dressing robes around her, pulling and cinching them around her waist so that she could come and stand beside him, arms tucked over her waist. 

“Well enough,” he said, and it was only then that she noticed the slash across his left cheek. It was an angry red thing already, and when she reached out to turn his head he hissed and pulled away. “Don’t,” he said darkly, not even looking at her, as though he was ashamed of himself for what he’d just done. 

“Thank--.” 

“I said  _ don’t _ .” He looked mutinous for a moment, brown eyes not meeting hers as though he couldn’t believe what he’d just done. His hair was still pressed down to one side from where he’d been sleeping, but there wasn’t a trace of sleep anywhere else in the way he carried himself or stared at everything that wasn’t her. Had he been awake long enough to contemplate the path he’d just taken? Or had it all just happened too fast and now his heart was pumping liquid fire into his veins? Without a word more to her he turned away and slammed his way out of her rooms, then out into the hallway from her receiving room. She winced to hear the guards ask what was going on, only to be cut off by the sound of what she assumed to be Ben’s fist colliding with his face. There was a loud thud and an angry protest from the man’s partner, who seemed to get the same treatment if Rey was judging the second thud and heavy silence that followed. She grimaced, heart rising in her throat as she looked down at the dead man beneath her. Why had he saved her?

 

Her advisors were pestering her to marry again, and it was getting old. Rey raged silently as she was forced to listen, stony faced, to them tout the importance of carrying on her line, as they reminded her once more that as a woman she was carrying the empire by the thinnest of threads. 

“I’m not going to marry someone who doesn’t know how to hold his own,” she said darkly, jaw set into a hard line as she stared at the exasperated faces pointed towards her, or else looking at the ground in disbelief and frustration. 

“Then perhaps you ought to hold a contest,” one of the other men piped in. Her eyes zeroed in on him, as did every gaze in the hall, and he swallowed thickly. “A t-tournament. Last man standing--. Well.” 

Rey completed his statement in a hard, flat voice: “Gets me.” 

“It would fulfill your desire to have a man who can fight be your mate. And perhaps--perhaps we open it up so that you are not simply stuck with the suitors who you so clearly abhor.” 

There was a murmur that went up around the table at that idea, and the younger man shrunk in his seat further as though wishing he hadn’t bothered to open his mouth. Rey grinned, however, and leaned backwards. It wasn’t the worst of ideas. Those who couldn’t survive wouldn’t make it, and those who could--well. There were worse things, she supposed. She didn’t have to marry for alliance, just for procreation. When that was finished, well. If they were that good of a swordsman they had nothing to fear, did they? Not unless Ben visited them in the evening. She shot a quick glance behind her at her bodyguard’s face, amazed to find him listening intently. Perhaps he held the same idea, that whomever it was that won the tournament might have more to be worried about outside of the ring rather than in. 

“I’ll accept the terms of that,” she said finally. The room went silent as the grave, and she rose from her seat. There was the scraping of chairs as they all rose to meet her, and she pressed her palms to the table as she leaned closer. “In a month I expect the tournament to be scheduled. I will respect the outcome, regardless of whom it is, if it will get you off of my back in regards to having children. Understood?”

There came a chorus of agreements, the men all looking down in some form of shame, or disbelief that she’d agreed, and she shot a smile at the younger man who’d proposed the idea. She’d need to keep an eye on him, to hear what else it was he had to say. Without another word on the subject, she turned on her heel and walked out the door, Ben a good half foot behind her as he always was. Her shadow, her guard. He’d been oddly subdued since he’d saved her, and she hadn’t had the heart to bring it up to him, admittedly anxious that he might disappear from her once again. 

“Did you mean what you said?” he asked as they turned down the hall to her room, Rey needing to change to go riding. She needed the fresh air, already caught up in the castle for far too long. If she didn’t have a change of pace she might lose whatever was left of her sanity. 

“About marrying whoever won?” she looked back at him, arching a brow. He was likely not looking forward to the prospect of there being someone else to boss him around, and for that she couldn’t blame him. Men were such odd, fickle creatures, who knew what her future husband would feel about her bodyguard? “I did. I said it in front of the council, there’s no going back now. If it will make them shut up, I’ll take the risk.” 

 

Riding had always been one of Rey’s favorite past times. There was something addictive about the rush of wind in her hair, biting at her face as she urged her horse to go faster. If she was a man it would’ve been expected for her to go riding every other day, to hold a hunt once a month. As it stood, she could maybe escape every other week to the stables, and it was rare that she wasn’t disturbed as soon as her horse was saddled and ready for her. 

There must’ve been a stroke of luck with her name on it when she and Ben made their way down the stables a week after the announcement in order to go for a ride. Rey tended to attract a great amount of glances regardless of where she was, but today it seemed to have increased five-fold. Another reason she needed to get away from the city, get into the country where it would be quiet and free from the whispered rumors. Ben pressed slightly closer to her and the heat of his body so close to hers made her shiver slightly. She looked back up at him, taken aback to see that he looked . . . irritated. 

“I assure you, it’ll be better once we’re off the grounds,” she said softly. He must’ve hated all the looks, the attention that they were both receiving was excessive, and at least the courtiers at the palace had the decency to avert their eyes so it didn’t  _ feel  _ like they were watching. 

Mostly. 

They came to their horses, and in a matter of moments had taken off, Rey leading the way as they traveled towards the outlying forest, passing the gates keeping the grazing horses inside with ease. The wind stung Rey’s eyes, bringing tears to the corners, but she couldn’t help but grin to feel just how free she could be. There was nothing on God’s earth as perfect as letting her horse go to its full potential beneath her, clinging to its back as it was spurred on by its own desire for speed. 

She couldn’t do that with Ben at her side, but she made do by racing him to the forest’s edge, grinning when she beat him by a full five seconds. “Seems you and your horse have some catching up to do.” 

“It’s not my fault the beast won’t move as quickly as I need it to,” he scowled. “Were this my steed I’d have you beaten in a heartbeat.” 

It was the first time he’d spoken of anything from before. Before she’d taken him, before she’d turned his kingdom from a sovereign state all its own, to one who relied on Rey in order to keep it safe because she’d destroyed what army they’d had. She swallowed thickly, turning her horse slightly to look around the forest and avoid his gaze and the inadvertent guilt that would rise from it. She didn’t regret her actions for one moment, knowing they were necessary, as was his capture. This was part of the game, part of the never-ending struggle and quest for power. 

“Perhaps we can find you a better one, more suited towards your standards,” she offered, looking back at him now as her mind struggled to piece together an apt, fitting response. “Would you like to ride mine? I’ve had him since he was a foal. We raised one another, and he’s about as fast as they come.”

That shut him up. Ben’s eyes were dark as he met hers, his mouth pulled into a pout of confusion though his body was remarkably relaxed despite the offer. It was as close to an olive branch as she could venture, and after some time Ben shook his head. 

“No. Thank you, though. I think I should like to find my own replacement.” 

She nodded, throat tight, unsure what else there was to say before she led him further through the forest. A replacement. A lasting, potentially permanent replacement. As odd as it was she’d never considered that he wasn’t leaving. That he was hers, and therefore would be there, till she or death released him. 

She wasn’t sure whether to be comforted or not. 

 

To Rey’s utter dismay, the prospect of death didn’t seem to be much of a deterrent to the men of her empire, who saw this as their chance to rise above their station and become so much more than whatever it was they were born into. Along with the royals, who’d volunteered their names upon hearing about the competition, she was told that somewhere around fifty or so other men had offered up their swords as well, eager to try and win the hand of the Empress. It rounded the number out to sixty-six competitors, and she groaned to think about sitting through their trials. 

“Might I have the day off?” Ben asked the night before the tournament. Her back was to him, and her head turned so swiftly it brought sharp pains to the base of her skull. Blast. Reaching up to rub in small, slow circles, she eyed him. 

“The day off? Tomorrow, the day of the tournament?” 

“I do not wish to sit through the peacocking and slaughter of men who know not what they are getting themselves into. It’s . . . not right to just watch.” 

She arched a brow, the dig on her person not entirely lost on her. 

He pressed on regardless. “Besides, you’ll be surrounded by your personal guard. You will be well protected.” He wet his full bottom lip, and she found herself staring after a moment. She really needed to stop doing that. “Please.” 

That was entirely unexpected, and it made her chest tighten slightly. Swallowing back her protests and her best judgement, she sighed and nodded. “Yes. You may. Don’t wander too far from the castle.” Or else. It hung heavy between them. In his earlier months he’d attempted escape so many times she’d lost count, waking up to find him missing or else returning to her chambers after an evening council meeting and finding that he’d disappeared from her rooms. Was this his plan, and was she playing into it by giving him the next day off? 

She eyed his collar, and stepped up towards him. Her fingers gently pressed against it, and she watched as he grew very still, letting her run her finger along the edge of it. “Are you trying to leave me?” she murmured softly, staring up at him through her lashes. His color stayed the same, and his dark lashes fanned against his cheeks as he locked eyes with her. 

“No. I’d just like the day off.” 

She bit her lip. It was a bad idea, the worst. Pure idiocy. Reaching, she grasped the long chain around her neck that held the key, and stood on her toes so that she could reach the clasp of his collar. With a click, it undid itself, and she eased the metal away from his throat. It pulsed in her hand, and Ben actually gasped as she set it off to the side. Her back was to him as she did so, and any minute she expected a blow, a knife to the back, a kick to the backs of her knees. 

He was still just standing there, watching her, as she turned back to him. “Yes, tomorrow you may have the day off, Ben. Thank you for asking.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. This was a great deal longer than expected. Your feedback has absolutely floored me--thank you so much for reading and all your positive words! They make writing such a joy. I hope you enjoy this update--I'd love to know what you think about this last juicy bit, and the piece as a whole.

el She didn’t sleep well that night, rest eluding her despite the fact that there was nothing she ought to be worried about. Her mate would be decided from those who fought, and only the strongest would be allowed to share her bed. Outside of that, there was nothing that said she had to spend more time with him, whoever he ended up being. They might as well be cohabitors sharing the same bed once a month. Depending on whomever he was she might not even deign to share the throne. He may be her consort, Emperor in nothing but name, but she’d be damned if she let her father’s hard work go to the hands of some undeserving bastard. 

When she woke Ben had already gone, off to spend his day off as he desired, and she tried not to let that weigh too heavily on her gut. Their routine had been set in stone for months, and the disruption wasn’t one she was taking well.

No, it was just her anxiety about the day, that was all. She steeled herself as her handmaidens walked in to help her bathe, dress, and put her hair up. Rose tried to engage her in conversation, the young woman the newest to Rey’s retinue, but every other word seemed lost on the distracted Empress. With Ben gone, her guard came to escort her to the tournament grounds, Finn at the front as their leader. He smiled to see her, standing back to survey the dress that she’d had fashioned for the day. Subtlety wasn’t in the cards when Rey was meaning to make her first impression. She wasn’t a woman to be trifled with, and the deep golden gown would catch and scatter the sunbeams. The neckline was perhaps lower than strictly proper, but she didn’t give a damn. Besides, who would say no to her?

“You look a vision,” Finn said, his smile widening to a grin as she turned for him, finding her face and shoulders relaxing. He took her hands in his own and kissed their backs, before looking back towards the door. “It’s about time we leave. Are you ready?” 

As she’d ever be. With a nod and a glance back towards the near empty room, she allowed Finn to escort her out. Though Finn’s presence was enough to set her mind at ease, he was exceptionally skilled and trained in both swordplay and hand-to-hand combat, it felt . . . off to not have the heavy footsteps of Ben Solo behind her, to not have the hulking shadow of her bodyguard in the side of her vision. 

Finn’s shoulder nudged hers gently, pulling her out of her reverie. “Are you alright, Rey?” he asked quietly, dark eyes seeking hers out, trying to decipher just what it was that had her back drawn up in a straight, uncomfortable line, what drew her lips together so tightly they went white. 

“Fine,” she assured him. “Just--Anxious. About whomever it is that wins. What it means for them, or what they  _ think  _ it means.” 

Finn’s expression told her he understood, and he shot her a look from the corner of her eye. “I think you’ll find that they’ll discover the truth soon enough.” He looked as though he was trying not to smile, his lips twisted in a hidden smirk. “Whatever it is they think, I don’t expect you’ll let it go on for very long if it’s not what you want.”

He had a point. She wasn’t one to take things lying down, and her mate wouldn’t be one of them. That brought a wry smile to her face as she hip-checked him and shook her head. “Point made. I won’t be worried, then. So long as someone reasonably attractive wins, at least,” she only half teased. If she needed to close her eyes during the actual process then she’d deal with that issue as it came. 

Their seats were close enough to the action that Rey wouldn’t have to strain to see the fighters, but not so close that she’d put in any harms way. Finn took his seat beside her while a contingent of guards stood in the doorway just behind them, ready to snap into action should anything happen. Not that Rey was expecting it, but she appreciated the support. 

The competitors were to be divided into two equal groups, and the last man standing from each one would compete against one another. The contestants were allowed to forfeit if they felt the battle was getting too difficult or they no longer wished to compete, though Rey expected a great deal of life lost before the men realized it was a serious competition. The last man standing would be deemed the victor, and she would take him to bed that evening. They would say their vows before the high clergy, and work to further her legacy. From then on she’d have to see what happened. One day she might even learn to love him, provided he wasn’t a monster. 

No sooner had she sat down than the fanfare began, the trumpets on either end of the enormous, bowl of their tournament grounds echoing around the stands of spectators. Thirty-three men, of varying size and age, entered the lists. She surveyed them in turn, taking in their leather armor and lack of weapons. The first two rounds would be conducted with hand to hand combat, while the last would be determined with swords. It would be better that way. Easier to hold back and respect a call for respite without any weapons in one’s hand, whereas in the final fight . . . somehow, she didn’t think surrender would be in the cards. 

She recognized a couple of the men in this first group from the paintings offered to her by her advisors, these men kings or princes in their own right, coming in to ask for her hand in marriage by proving themselves as she demanded. It caused her to sit a little higher than was, perhaps, necessary. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t pleased that her words had struck such a chord that they’d been followed. 

The doors to the lists closed with a final thud, and Rey rose from her seat as the trumpets sounded once more. All grew silent as they finished, and Rey looked down upon the men, all waiting for the word from their Empress, their bodies tense and their breathing shallow. 

She wet her lips, parting them as she let the tension grow, and in a voice not louder than that of a normal conversation she said: “Fight.” 

She took her head as the first blow landed, the sound of crunching bones following just seconds after. In no time a true challenger arose to the front. He was stocky, with blond hair so fair it looked almost silver in the light, and like he was balding when sweat began to wet it to his scalp. Rey did her best to keep her face from twisting as he felled contestant after contestant, most of them managing to squeak out a respite before he could land a finishing blow. 

“Isn’t that Unkar Plutt’s man?” Finn asked, voice hard just beside Rey, leaning in to murmur it to her. “Tyan, or something?” 

With a twist in her gut she recognized him, and Rey chewed on the inside of her cheek. “You’re right,” she murmured. “He’s rather large, isn’t he?” 

“Around.” 

Rey had to suppress a snort, shaking her head. “No way am I allowing some puppet to take his place beside me, least of all Plutt’s man. I won’t allow it.” Plutt’s greasy fingers were already everywhere on her childhood home, that secret place where she’d been shipped off to upon her birth to keep her protected from harm, and from her father. Plutt had always known where to stick his nose in in order to maintain a positive rapport with the right sort of people, and Rey’s father had been no exception. 

The new Empress, he’d found, hadn’t been near as receptive. This must’ve been his plan to make his way back into the fold, and as far as plans went . . . he seemed to be doing quite well. Rey’s heart clenched at the thought, and her hands tightened into fists in her lap. 

“Might have to kill my husband after I marry him,” she muttered harshly. Finn tried not to snort. 

 

Plutt’s man was the winner in the end, and Rey forced herself to smile at him as he paraded himself around the pit, arms high in the air while the crowd whooped and cried out in his victory. Rey felt that knot deep within her stomach tighten further, and she had to look away after he disappeared through the doors to rest until the final round. 

“Please let someone better win,” she muttered. One of Finn’s hand found hers and he sighed quietly. 

“They will, don’t worry.” But she could tell he wasn’t so positive, and it just made her want to throw up. 

 

The second group was marched in as soon as the bodies had been cleared from the first, the blood still mixed with the dirt, the scent of metal staining the air. Rey could feel sweat drip down her temples from the heat of the overhead sun, and had to chew her cheek when the trumpets heralded their entrance. Here, once more, she recognized a couple other men who’d offered their portraits up to her before this tournament, and she wondered whether she ought to have just accepted that deal as it was rather than take her chances getting married to Tyan. She didn’t need Finn’s sudden clutch at her knee to tell her what her eyes were showing her. There, in the midst of all the other competitors, stood Ben Solo. His bare chest gleamed in the high sun, and though she’d seen him half a dozen times before there was something different about the sweat that covered his pale skin, in the cut of his muscles and how they contracted as he breathed, looking around at his competition. She rarely saw him looking so sure of himself, so comfortable in a place that was not at her side, and it made her heart leap into her throat to consider that he’d done this all of his own volition. She’d never so much as suggested to him that he join in. Had never thought he’d ever want to. She had to press her thighs together to quell the heat that had been lit between her legs. 

At her side, Finn seemed to be looking for the apt words to fill the silence. “That’s--.” 

“I know,” she said, swallowing thickly. He must’ve felt her gaze, for his own was drawn to hers, his dark eyes refusing to let her own go. Rey’s cheeks warmed, but she closed her mouth as she stared at him. Even from where she sat she could see the curl of his lips in a cheeky sort of half smile that had her stomach twisting. So much for a day off. 

There was a murmuring that went up in the crowds, and it was only then that Rey realized they were waiting for her once more to signal the fight. All eyes were on her flustered face as she stood with a start, clearing her throat. She looked around the fighting grounds before her gaze settled once more on Ben’s. Locking eyes, she parted her lips and commanded: “Fight.”

 

Ben sprung into action. While those clustered closest together made a grab for the nearest body, Ben was unafraid of putting some distance between himself and the other competitors. He’d let them kill one another before making his true moves, it seemed. His gaze was quick as he surveyed the bloodied mayhem that had blossomed in the very center. One individual, a man that Rey didn’t recognize and barely came up to Ben’s shoulder, angled a right hook at Ben’s face that had the taller man scrambling backwards more out of surprise than actual pain as his attack connected. Ben smirked and lunged, wrapping his arms around the shorter man’s throat and squeezing. His eyes drew upwards to meet Rey’s heated gaze, which hadn’t wavered since the fighting began. When she drew her chin upwards, he shifted his arms and snapped the man’s neck, letting the body fall limply to the ground. He smirked, and it fanned the flames growing in Rey’s lower abdomen. 

“He knows exactly what he’s doing,” she muttered, feeling a thrill of hope run through her that she wouldn’t be stuck with Plutt’s disgusting breath on the back of her neck for the rest of her life. 

Finn gave a low whistle as Ben disposed of another man who’d come too close to him, striking him down with a single punch to the nose. The crack rang out through the grounds, and blood splattered back onto Ben’s fist and torso. “I’ll say. I’m glad he’s on our side.” They watched as he slid on the hard, compacted dirt, tripping up another man before kicking him full in the face. “He is on our side . . . isn’t he?”

“He’s on mine,” Rey said with a proud smile. Wasn’t that what mattered? 

Finn didn’t argue, and Rey wasn’t about to press it, her attention once more taken by the scene before her. Ben had managed to be almost entirely covered in blood and dirt from the waist down, and in his wake laid men either groaning in agony before they were escorted away, or not moving at all. Rey’s mouth went dry to see him standing alone in the middle of the grounds. His head snapped up to face her, pushing his hair from his face, as the trumpets sounded once more. Another contender had stepped into the ring, Tyan running at Ben as though the world burned behind him. 

“Look out!” 

Ben hardly had time to turn around and duck, narrowly avoiding the swing of Tyan’s sword. Had he been a second slower, he’d have been a head shorter, and he just barely had time to crouch low once more in order to avoid another blow aimed at the top of his head. Rey swore she saw a couple strands of hair fall to the ground, cut short by the sharp edge of Tyan’s sword, before a sword was kicked Ben’s way by one of the guards. Rey’s eyes narrowed. Why wasn’t he given one before, or at least a chance of respite as Tyan had been? 

She’d investigate it later, far too invested in the way that Ben scrambled to his feet to avoid being gutted by Tyan’s sword. Her hands fisted at her sides, nails biting into the flesh until it felt like she was drawing blood. Her mouth opened as Ben stood and swung. His reach was longer than Tyan’s, and more powerful, but Tyan managed to block it with his own blade. The sound of metal colliding made Rey’s every hair stand on end, breath stolen, and it wasn’t long before the two men were locked in a duel of blows. Ben’s style was reckless, yet the sword moved as if it were an extension of his own arm, swinging with ease in retaliation for every move Tyan dared to make against him. Still, she couldn’t help but note that there was something oddly graceful about the way he threw his body at his opponent. Reckless he might’ve been, but there would be no denying his skill. 

He hadn’t been counting on the abilities of his opponent, however. After one particular move that had Rey’s heart stopping, in which he spun and threw himself at his opponent, Tyan managed to slice open Ben’s left forearm. The gash didn’t look to be too deep, but it was warning enough that Ben ought to stop showing off. He tripped over one of the dead bodies that had yet to be removed from the grounds. Rey’s teeth ground together and Finn hissed through his teeth. 

“First blood goes to Tyan.” 

“For now,” Rey snarled, not meaning for the words to come out so passionate, but there was no taking them back now. 

The message got through to Ben. He spun his sword in his hand, teeth set in a hard grimace, before he launched his full weight at the other man. He brought his sword down in a high arc that forced Tyan to lift his weapon up to counter, leaving his chest vulnerable to an attack. Ben’s long leg kicked out, connecting with the man’s gut and knocking him to the ground, before he drew his blade across Tyan’s exposed neck. Blood spurted upwards from the long gash in time with the gasps and harsh, wet sound of air leaving his lungs and throat. In a scant matter of seconds Ben was coated in yet another wave of red, coating him from face to feet. 

Rey was the first on her feet, positively beaming at him as he stared up at her and wiped his blade clean on the shirt of the newly dead man. Not that it did much, but when he looked up the smile he shot her was victorious, a shit eating grin that said he knew exactly what came next even as his gaze devoured her. The way her own lips shifted into a sly smile that beget the hard anticipation thrumming in her veins promised that she was just as excited. 

“Well then,” Finn said from beside Rey. “If you’re walking funny the next couple of days at least no one will be able to fault you for that. I wonder whether we shouldn’t all just clear out and let you have a go of it right here.” 

“Don’t be so crass,” Rey said with a wave of her hand, as though she hadn’t been thinking the exact same thing. When the priests came for her she went willingly, her chest hot and blood quick moving in her veins, enough so that it made her nearly light headed. Oh, all the things she was going to do to him that evening. 

 

She was dressed in all white for the impromptu ceremony, while Ben reappeared at her side in nothing save a pair of white trousers. Blood still clung to his skin, a reminder of the fight he’d endured at her behest, and though they were forced to stand a couple inches from one another she felt the heat of his body so close to her. She wouldn’t have been amazed if lightning sparked between them. A cup of wine was pushed into her hands, and she turned to face her newest mate. Slowly, she lifted it up to her lips and drank deeply, feeling the liquid slide through her gut and fuel the fire that had been burning since she’d seen him fight for her in the arena. When she was certain she might burst into flame she stopped, and offered him the chalice. His enormous hands slid over hers and her breath caught in her throat as he took the heavy silver cup from her grip and placed his lips right where hers had been, finishing off the last of the wine. His full lips were stained when he pulled away, and it was no hardship for her to step forward and kiss him firmly on the mouth when the priest instructed them to. He wrapped his full arms around her as she threw her own around his neck, and when he bit her bottom lip she felt her knees tremble, relying on his strength to keep her upright. 

When the priest cleared his throat they parted, Ben’s lips swollen and his eyes dark. She took his hand in hers, threading their fingers, and started to lead them away. 

“Empress, there is still--.” 

“There will be time for that later,” she shot back, staring at the man with a look that didn’t offer another option. It silenced the priest, who looked about ready to swallow his tongue. “I’m taking my mate back with me. Now.” 

Ben preened at the attention, thumb rubbing the back of her hand as she led them towards her chambers, newly refitted with white, clean sheets. It was all symbolic, this she knew, but the group of men who’d come to inspect their coupling would be sorely disappointed if they intended to see more than the wreckage that followed her and Ben’s first evening. 

“You can all return to your rooms and homes for the evening,” she announced as she opened her door, reveling in the confusion and disconcerted humming. 

“But--my lady--,” started one of her advisors, his mouth falling open. “We’re here to ensure--.” 

“Trust me. Stick around outside the door and you’ll hear more than enough to ensure that our union is consummated. But no one save myself, and my mate, are going to be allowed in here until I’ve had the evening with him to myself. Understood?” 

There was a confused, low grumble that went up around them and it made Rey’s eyes narrow. “I asked if you all understood.” 

The smattering of “Yes, my lady” pleased her as it echoed through the small hallway, and with one final nod to those men who sought to impede in her personal life, she disappeared with Ben in tow. No sooner had the door shut behind him than she found herself grinning, lips split so wide her face hurt. She’d done that. She’d commanded men to fight for the honor of her hand, and Ben had won. She’d commanded those sycophantic, over-involved bastards to leave her be, and they’d done so. Giddy with power, and the promise of what was to come, she turned to see Ben watching her very closely, his dark eyes taking in her appearance. She looked down at herself, only to see that what blood had been let on his body had pressed itself to the once pristine cloth of her dress. That was all it took, and she bent over with laughter, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. Her sides ached and her throat felt raw, but she couldn’t stop. 

“Are you alright?” Ben asked, in a voice equally concerned and bemused. She supposed he’d never seen her like this before.

She straightened, wiping her eyes as she grinned. “Yeah. Fine. Just--it’s been a day, hasn’t it? And you--you asked for it off so you could fight.” 

He nodded, stepping closer. “I did. I told you I wasn’t going to stand by and watch,  wasn’t going to let one of those pompous assholes have you when you were so very near my own grasp.” He reached for her hand, squeezing it and lacing their fingers together. 

The laughter died down in her throat, though the euphoria clung like a haze, making her every limb feel light as he drew her even closer. “Now you’re mine,” Ben continued in a voice like silk, his spare hand moving to stroke her cheek with the back of his hand. 

“And you’re mine,” she said, lips parting as she forced herself to breathe slowly. “Now. Let me see the greatest fighter in my lands laid bare for me.” 

His expression morphed into one of barely contained pride as he stepped away and began to strip. She could already see where his cock had tented the front of his trousers, before the fabric pooled below him on the ground and he stepped out of it. Rey’s mouth ran dry. She’d known he was a fighter before she’d taken him, but little had prepared her to see him completely open to her like this. His legs were thicker than her waist, well muscled and as defined as his broad chest and abdomen, and his cock stood proudly between them. The tip was red and leaked precome down the thick length of him, enough to make Rey’s mouth water to take him past her lips. She sucked on her bottom lip, eyes hooded as she motioned for him to turn. With a muffled snort he did, allowing her a gratuitous look at his strong back, and an ass that she desperately wanted to dig her nails into. Before he could turn back around to face her she’d come up behind him, wrapping a hand around his cock. Slowly, she pumped her hand along his length, reveling in the shudder that ran up his body and the weight of his member in her hand. “Good to know you’re proportionately enormous everywhere,” she teased, lips tracing the definition of his left shoulder. He groaned when she slid her finger over his tip, and laid his head back against her shoulder as she worked him slowly, experimenting with friction and pressure until she was certain he was as needy as she was. Already, she could feel her own arousal dripping between her legs, and was certain that he could smell it as strongly as she could. 

“I’ve got--a surprise for you,” he managed to gasp when she added a small curve to her movements, her hand wrapping around his head with minor embellishment before she pulled back down on his length. 

“Other than yourself fighting, what could you possibly have gotten me?” she asked, curiosity and pleasure lacing her words. 

With a disappointed groan, Ben pulled away in order to move towards the trunk that he stored his belongings in. She was given another gratuitous look at his ass, leaving her mouth watering as he bent down to collect something from within it, and when he came to face her once more she felt her chest restrict. In his hands was another collar, this one made of black leather and metal, with a ring at the very front she could use to tie him up to something, to restrain him. Ideas flooded her sex-charged brain, and she found herself gawking as he stepped closer and offered it to her. 

“To you, my empress, I devote myself,” he purred, slipping down onto one knee. He kissed her hips through the fabric of her dress, and she thought she might burst from desire alone. “So long as you will have me, I will be yours.” 

She took the proffered collar in hand, feeling the thick leather and steeling herself for the fucking that she imagined would ensue soon as this was on him. With sure, steady hands, she managed to undo the lacing, and redo it around his throat, fingers dragging against where the leather met skin for a couple extra seconds. 

“I would have you, my mate, in this life and the next,” she purred, tipping his head upwards so he could see how she meant it. He grinned, fingers bunching on the fabric of her dress as he pulled it upwards and mouthed along her hip bones, fabric bunched up around her waist. She moaned and dug her hands into his hair, dragging him closer to her cunt. She was already soaked, and without any undergarments to impede him, Ben pressed his mouth immediately to her slit, tongue sliding its way up her soaked sex. She groaned, mouth falling open as her head tipped backwards, and her hips rocked to meet the small, slow kisses he pressed against her clit, inner thighs, and folds. 

“If you tease me for too long I will put you on the floor and make you watch as I fuck myself,” she ground out, unable to muster the power to glare at him, and so let her threat stand on what little merit she could muster. 

His quiet laugh meant that he knew it, too, yet his attention turned to her clit. His full lips wrapped around the small bud, and as he sucked he ran the flat of his tongue against it, pressing hard enough that Rey saw the heavens above part for her. Her first orgasm snuck up on her, crashing against her knees as she nearly fell with the pressure and release of it all, her screams echoing through the bedroom as Ben’s hands moved to steady her hips. 

“Careful, empress,” he said, licking his lips when she fell to her knees beside him. “We’re only just beginning.” 

 

It was no difficulty for him to lift her up and onto the bed, spreading her legs wide so he could fit between them. Rey shivered beneath him, watching his bulk shift above her, his gaze never leaving hers as he sat himself back up on his knees. He brought her left leg up to his shoulder, kissing the ankle before pressing the head of his cock against her center, still slick from his saliva and her arousal. An involuntary groan left Rey’s lips, and her face colored in surprise at just how needy she sounded. Ben took it all in stride, full lips spread in a grin as he eased the tip of his cock inside her. It was one thing to see how well endowed he was, another to feel the stretch as he breached her. Her breathing faltered, caught in her chest, and she reached one hand up to tangle in his long hair, tugging him down to meet her so that she was practically folded into two. The angle brought his cock further inside of her, and she whimpered against his lips as he opened his mouth for her, allowing her to taste herself on his tongue. She gripped his shoulders, nails digging into the skin, as he bottomed out within her, needing something solid to cling to as he adjusted his hips, thrusting shallowly so that every last inch of him was covered in her slick. 

He cursed under his breath, shifting once more, and Rey whined to look down at where they were joined and see the slightest of bulges in her stomach, the outline of his cock just barely visible but  _ fuck _ , it was a sight she wanted burned into her memory for all of time. “Just how big are you?” she gasped as he pulled out, then shifted back inside, the outline moving with his hips and the feeling exquisite to match. 

“Big enough to please you, empress,” he purred, his lips moving along the curve of her jaw, leaving small bites and kisses in his wake. “I’m going to take you so hard you’ll forget your name, that you’ll never want for anything again. I’m going to split you in two because you’re  _ mine _ as I am yours, and by the gods I’m never going to let you go. I’m--.” 

She reached up to grip his collar, pulling him upwards and closer so that she could kiss him hard on the lips. Fire burned just below the surface of her skin, set ablaze by his words and the pretty pictures he painted in her mind's eye, but the time for talking was done. “Just keep fucking me, and don’t stop until you’ve filled me up. Don’t tell me, Ben Solo,” she hissed as he snapped his hips against hers. “Show me. Fuck me.” 

He might as well have been waiting for her command all evening. He pulled himself up to balance on his knees as his hands shifted to grip her hips. Propping herself up on a pillow, she was able to get a good look as he entered her, his cock red and shining, before he pressed himself back to the root inside of her. Rey saw stars behind her eyes, and had to clutch at the bedding in order to ground herself in the reality of what was happening, groaning when his pace picked up. Ben’s face shone with sweat, his hair plastered to his face until he managed to push it out of the way. 

“You’re so  _ tight _ ,” he hissed, hips snapping against hers as his enormous hands drew her back and onto his cock, meeting her thrust for thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed just under Rey’s moaning and Ben’s grunts as he worked his hips faster. “Like you were made for fucking me.” 

“Or you were made for  _ me _ ,” Rey countered, reaching up to tweak one of his nipples. He shuddered, choking on nothing as a red flush spread over his chest. Rey wanted to lick it, trace the planes of his muscles with her tongue, find where they connected and made him shiver, just as he did her, but she’d have to be content with this for now. Perhaps after they’d bathed. 

They only had the rest of their lives together. 

Spurred on by the thought, Rey rolled her hips against his, and shifted her legs so that they came to wrap around his waist. The angle wasn’t as deep here, but it didn’t have to be as he picked up speed. His thrusts were even for the most part, making it easier for Rey to shift her weight and press back on him. He upended, tugging her with him as he was laid out on his back to stare up at her, Rey finding balance on his chest. She grinned down at him and ground her hips on his cock, bringing Ben to moan her name. 

“I’m not going to let you have all the fun.” Her voice was thin, breathy, but his reverent gaze emboldened her. Swiveling her hips, she took his hands and cupped her breasts with them, showing him how she liked her nipples to be played with so that when she moved to situate her hands on his upper thighs for balance, he kept going. She was panting in earnest now, the desire and need for him that had begun the first night she’d captured him finally coming to a head. With his thighs as her stable base, she was able to bounce herself on his cock with near abandon, her head thrown back, moans loud as his own as she leaned backwards to tighten the angle. He popped out of her once, when she got overly ambitious to try and slide almost entirely off of him, and he grinned as he took that as his turn to switch them up once more. Sitting up, he flipped her over, exposing her pert ass to his heated gaze. His enormous palm came down on her already red skin, and she yelped at the surprise. The sound quickly morphed into a deep, guttural groan as he thrust into her, covering her back with his chest as his hips pounded into hers. There. There was the rough, animalistic rutting she was looking for, and her body went boneless beneath him. She hardly had enough presence of mind to reach back and grip him by the collar, to pull him closer to her so she could kiss him hard on the mouth as his hips hammered against hers. 

“Don’t stop,” she gasped. “Don’t--don’t stop. Oh, fuck. Ben.” Her body shuddered underneath his, ass pressing back against his cock with every other thrust, mind starting to go fuzzy with pleasure. Her whole body felt weightless, buffeted by the forward motion of his weight atop hers and how remarkably safe she felt underneath him. She’d never had that with anyone before, and when she came with a strangled cry, cunt clenching around his cock, she found the corners of her eyes leaked tears. 

He wasn’t far behind, his face nuzzled into the crook of her neck, breathing hot and hard against her skin as he pushed harder, over and over again. She could feel his cock beginning to swell within her, the base thickening as he pushed closer to orgasm, and it caused him to falter. 

“Wh-what--?”

“Just keep going, oh dammit Ben. Don’t you dare stop. Not now.” She let out a low whine, one hand reaching underneath her to play with her clit as he started to tremble. “Need to feel you come inside me, want you to fill me up. Oh, please. Please please  _ please.  _ I need yo--ohh,  _ yes _ .” 

His thrusts were losing their rhythm but gaining in intensity as it became increasingly difficult for him to fit within her. With one last powerful thrust of his hips, his knot pressed inside of her, the base of his cock expanding until it sealed them together. Rey screamed into the sheets, her climax ripping through her as she felt him paint the insides of her cunt with his come, spilling in thick ropes inside her. She didn’t care who could hear, didn’t care what they thought. All that mattered was his weight atop her, his lips on the nape of her neck, and his lips whispering her name like some sort of prayer. She could feel his come shifting around inside her when she moved, and it made her moan in the most indecent of ways. 

“What the hell--is happening?” Ben’s voice was a wreck, hoarse and broken as he shifted to look down at where they were joined. 

“The wine,” she murmured. “It brings out the best in the couples who drink it. Now we’re mated, Ben Solo. I am yours, and you are mine. Is that not enough?” 

He was silent long enough for her to be worried, her heart sinking as she looked back at him. His expression was wondrous, confused and--excited? His lips softened into a smile as he leaned in to kiss her, easing them onto their sides so he could rest his already trembling body. 

“It is,” he promised in between kisses. “It is more than enough.” 


End file.
